


hasty is a relative term

by owlinaminor



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: F/M, Marriage, sisterly advice, stupid people in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 05:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlinaminor/pseuds/owlinaminor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elsa thought Anna had learned something about the value of taking things slow from her disastrous first relationship.  Apparently, she was wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hasty is a relative term

**Author's Note:**

> It was really only a matter of time before I wrote at least something for Frozen. So, here goes.

“Elsa!  Elsa, are you awake?”

It is three o’clock in the morning, and the queen of Arandelle is awake.  At least, she is _now_.

“Go away,” she groans into her pillow.  She had to stay up late arguing with the Council about the terms of a new tax policy, and she is really not in the mood for a late-night sisterly chat, or whatever this is.

“Elsaaaaa!” Anna repeats in a high-pitched sing-song that comes this close to piercing the castle’s windows.  The queen rolls over onto her stomach and feigns a snore, but her sister isn’t fooled.  The pokes are swift and harsh, like fallen icicles jabbing into a snow drift.

Elsa resists for half a minute or so, but she isn’t stupid – she knows that when Anna puts her mind to something, surrender is the only realistic option.  Yawning and sitting up in bed (all the better to glare uselessly at her sister), Elsa says, “Is this a reoccurrence of your, ‘The sky’s awake, so I’m awake’ thing?  Because that is _not_ a good excuse anymore.”

“What?  No.”  Anna sits on the side of the royal bed and looks down at her hands, suddenly subdued compared to her usual bouncy self.

Elsa’s _really_ awake now.  “What is it, then?” she asks.

Anna glances up at her sister, then away again.  “It’s, um, about ... Kristoff,” she says, so quitely Elsa barely catches it.  “I need your help.”

“Do I need to punch him in the face?” the queen instinctively replies.  Because, I mean, you’re stronger, but I can definitely teach him a lesson he won’t soon for –”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Anna interrupts.  “Kristoff’s fine.  Better than fine, he’s amazing ... It’s more that ... That ...”

She takes a deep breath, and her sister has a small inner anxiety attack.

“I don’t think he loves me as much as I love him.”

Oh.  Oh, _Anna_.  Without thinking, Elsa reaches across the bed and pulls her sister into a hug (Anna hasn’t been crying, but her face is red as though she was considering it, and that is Not Okay on so many levels.)

After pulling away, Elsa says in her best Stern Queen Voice, “I’m sure that’s not true.  Kristoff adores you, anyone can see that.”

Anna eyes her with suspicion.  “But he hasn’t asked me to marry him yet!” she whines – it bursts out of her as though this is a thought she’s been holding in (and pondering and going over a million times late at night) for quite some time.

There are times when Elsa truly can’t believe her sister.  She should have seen this coming – really, she should have.  But no, Anna still manages to surpass herself in sheer ... Sheer Anna-ness.

“You _do_ realize that you guys have only been together for a couple of weeks, right?” Elsa says slowly.

“So?” Anna counters.  “Hans proposed to me after we’d only known each other a couple of _hours_.”

“Yes, but Hans only wanted to marry you so that he could take over the kingdom,” Elsa reminds her.  “That’s not exactly a good basis for comparison.”

“Why not?  I love Kristoff and I want to spend the rest of my life with him, so why shouldn’t I marry him now?”

Elsa thinks for a moment.  She can’t tell her sister that a hasty wedding of a princess and a lowly ice peddler would reflect bad upon the kingdom – Anna doesn’t care about any of that.  And, okay, maybe Elsa is also a little bit concerned about her sister’s impulsive streak and where it might lead her (even though Elsa admittedly likes Kristoff a lot more than she liked Hans) but the amount of worrying Elsa does on Anna’s behalf is _not_ something Anna will soon be finding out about.

So, Elsa begins, “I know you love Kristoff, and I know he loves you – it’s pretty obvious from the way he looks at you.”

“Really?” Anna interrupts.  “You really think that?  Why?  How does he look at me?”

“As though you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen,” Elsa replies.  (Her sister grins at that and bounces excitedly on the bed a couple of times – good, at least she’s feeling better.)  “But that’s not my point,” the queen continues.  “You still haven’t known Kristoff that long, and you don’t know him well enough to marry him.  I mean, what if he doesn’t even _want_ to get married?  It’s certainly possible.  Before you start freaking out over whether or not he loves you, talk to him about it.  At least ask him if he’s in it for the long haul.”

Anna nods.  “Okay, got it.  I’ll, like, hint that I want him to propose.  I can do that.  I can be sneaky.  Thanks, Elsa – you’re the best!”

And with those parting words, she jumps off the bed and rushes to the door (Anna never calmly walks anywhere.)

“No, wait!” Elsa calls after her.  “That’s not what I meant!  I’m not giving you my blessing until you’ve known each other for a few months!  _Anna_ –”

The door slams shut before the queen can say any more.  She sighs and falls back on her bed, wondering how long she’ll be able to keep this up before she succumbs to Anna’s perseverance and allows a wedding, social conventions and foreign relations be damned.  Probably not that long.  But, well, at least she can try – and she can put up a pretty good fight, too.

* * *

The next day, Elsa is sitting in her office, reading reports when someone bangs on her door – once, twice, three times.

“Come in.”

“Elsa, you have to help me,” Kristoff says, barging in like a blizzard in July.  “I think Anna wants me to propose to her – I mean, she asked me if I’d _theoretically_ be okay with marriage _in the long run_ , but she’s so bad at lying – she wants to get married, to me, _me_ – it’s not that I don’t want to marry her, I definitely do, but – Elsa, you’re her sister, you know her better than anyone, how should I ask her?  I mean, what can I even do to be worthy of someone as amazing –”

Elsa scrutinizes him for a long moment, taking in his eager eyes and flushed face and wondering how her sister managed to land a man both so perfect for her and _such_ an idiot.

“Come talk to me in a few months, when you’re _ready_ ,” she says – slow and icy, every word perfectly pronounced – and then summons a gust of wind to slam the door in his face.


End file.
